"Nonsense! I kicked the ball."
"Yes, but into my goal."
"No; it's mine. I kicked the ball there."
"By mistake; for me."
"Oh, what a stupid game!" cried Phra pettishly. "Phew! how hot I am! I don't want to play any more at a game like that."
And now, with the excitement at an end, both found that playing football in their fashion under such a sun was an exercise of which a very little went a long way.
They stretched themselves out on the ground, with the ball lying hard by getting warm.
"Oh, I say, it's too hot to stop here; come and lie in the shade," cried Harry. "Let's go indoors."
They went back, passed through the verandah, and entered the dining-room.
It was as hot there, a heavy, stagnant heat; but there was a basket of oranges upon the table.